


You are beautiful and I love you

by Fireway



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arya's POV, F/M, Fix-It, alternative to THE SCENE in 8x04, my official fuck d&d fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 00:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18728086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fireway/pseuds/Fireway
Summary: Four alternative endings to THE SCENE in 8x04.Fuck D&D. Give me back Arya's 7 seasons of character growth.





	1. The one where Arya said yes

Arya breathed in deeply, then out through her mouth. The crowd outside was getting louder now that everyone was leaving the feast – the one she should have participated in.

Arya heard footsteps coming in from the entrance, and for a moment she wondered, if she should shoot – then she saw the silhouette of Gendry’s clean-shaven face. Arya felt a tiny grin rising on her lips as she released the arrow, it hitting the bullseye just as the bull-headed boy was about to cross her target.

Arya saw Gendry suck in a breath, surprised, but soon his blue eyes found her, arms raised in alarm. Arya lowered here bow, smile faded away from her lips again as she took a step back.

“Don’t shoot.” His voice was low, not quite as alarmed as she would have assumed – in fact, there was a ghost of a smile playing on his lips that soon seemed to be on her own lips as well as Gendry walked towards her with relaxation, in ease she hadn’t seen him in for days. Arya lifted her bow as soon as Gendry wasn’t in between her and her target, listening to his voice that seemed to soften, just a little bit, though that might’ve the ale talking.

“It’s night time, it’s freezing, and everyone’s celebrating. You should be celebrating with them.”

Arya stared at her bow, trying to put together an explanation for Gendry; she wasn’t in the mood for a feast nor a celebration, didn’t feel like being the centre of attention. She wasn’t her sister, after all.

And truth be told, she was celebrating, she truly was. Hitting her target again and again was a celebration for her, for she could actually see herself succeeding, not just entertaining drunk men and women with stories of her heroism, stories she knew would be exaggerated as soon as she left the room and someone else was telling the story to the next person.

“I am celebrating.” Arya stated, raising her bow and with a swift motion releasing the arrow, both of them looking as it hit the bullseye, again.

Arya saw Gendry from the corner of her eye and saw he seemed almost nervous, switching his weight from one leg to another.

“Yeah, I am too.” Gendry said, his voice sounding as nervous as he acted, but Arya decided to hear what he had to say before asking what was making him so fidgety. She bent to take another arrow, when after an awkward pause Gendry continued. “I’m not Gendry Waters anymore. I’m … Gendry Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End.”

That caught Arya’s attention, her eyes now fixated on the man standing next to her.

“By order of the queen.” He then continued, a soft, happy smile appearing on Arya’s face.

“Congratulations.” Arya hardly could finish the word when Gendry was already there, his hands grabbing her arms almost desperately as he pressed a feverish, yet soft kiss on her lips. After Arya got over her surprise, she kissed him back, leaning into his touch gently, but soon Gendry pulled away, Arya’s eyes opening slowly as the hasty kiss has ended a bit too soon for her liking.

“Arya. I don’t know how to be lord of anything. I hardly know how to use a fork.” Gendry rambled, Arya’s smile becoming more and more amused as he went on, her eyes jumping between his brilliantly blue eyes as he continued, Gendry’s voice now more sure, as he measured the words in his mouth before saying them out loud.

“All I know is that you’re beautiful, and I love you, and none of it will be worth anything if you’re not with me.” The damn smile on Gendry’s face just wouldn’t go anywhere, as he was offering her his heart.

Part of Arya couldn’t believe it; Gendry thought she was beautiful? Gendry had seen Arry, the dirty little boy who grew up to be a fighter of steel and blood, the Slayer of Night King; she was no fair maiden from King’s Landing or a soft-spoken girl who wore dresses and braided flowers to her hair. She was just Arya, a girl with dark hair and boyish features, yet Gendry saw something he could call beautiful in her – and oh, he loved her.

 _He_ loved _her_ , as she _loved_ him.

Arya was momentarily floored by the confession, her eyes feeling wet for a moment, as this man before her thought there was no use having lands and power without her.

“So be with me.” Gendry continued, as Arya couldn’t find her voice to answer him. As Gendry said that, he knelt in front of her, looking up at her like she was the most wonderful, beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“Be my wife. Be the Lady of Storm’s End.” The question made Arya’s chest ache with warmth and longing, as she looked down at Gendry. His eyes filled with hope and happiness enchanted her, and she found herself kneeling too, to get on his level to press a soft, gentle kiss on his lips. She had her hands placed on his neck as she wanted him to stay still, stay in this moment forever, their eyes closed and the whole world around them gone quiet, as in that moment there were just the two of them. Arya guided him to stand up with a slight movement of her hands, without breaking the kiss as they stood up in unison, moving as one.

Gendry pulled away slightly to breathe, but soon continued to press soft kisses on her chapped lips, in a way that made Arya’s heart thrum up in her throat.

It took a while before Arya could even open her eyes, as she didn’t want the kiss to end, not ever. When she finally found her voice, with grey eyes filled with love and gentle warmth, she answered.

“I love you so much.” Her voice was soft, as she stood on her tiptoes, pressing a gentle, short kiss on his lips, her hand resting on the bac of her neck as he pulled her closer by her waist.

“Was that a yes? Be my lady?” Gendry asked, his voice raspy and low.

“Yes, yes it was.” Arya managed, before running her fingertips up his shaved head, pressing a deep, long kiss on Gendry’s lips, tears of happiness pooling in her closed eyes, getting stuck on her eyelashes.

“I’ll marry you. I’ll marry you, Arya Stark.” Gendry said, almost as if he was telling that to himself, telling himself that they found the happiness and the family they both had been missing in each other.


	2. The one where Arya said no

Arya breathed in deeply, then out through her mouth. The crowd outside was getting louder now that everyone was leaving the feast – the one she should have participated in.

Arya heard footsteps coming in from the entrance, and for a moment she wondered, if she should shoot – then she saw the silhouette of Gendry’s clean-shaven face. Arya felt a tiny grin rising on her lips as she released the arrow, it hitting the bullseye just as the bull-headed boy was about to cross her target.

Arya saw Gendry suck in a breath, surprised, but soon his blue eyes found her, arms raised in alarm. Arya lowered here bow, smile faded away from her lips again as she took a step back.

“Don’t shoot.” His voice was low, not quite as alarmed as she would have assumed – in fact, there was a ghost of a smile playing on his lips that soon seemed to be on her own lips as well as Gendry walked towards her with relaxation, in ease she hadn’t seen him in for days. Arya lifted her bow as soon as Gendry wasn’t in between her and her target, listening to his voice that seemed to soften, just a little bit, though that might’ve the ale talking.

“It’s night time, it’s freezing, and everyone’s celebrating. You should be celebrating with them.”

Arya stared at her bow, trying to put together an explanation for Gendry; she wasn’t in the mood for a feast nor a celebration, didn’t feel like being the centre of attention. She wasn’t her sister, after all.

And truth be told, she was celebrating, she truly was. Hitting her target again and again was a celebration for her, for she could actually see herself succeeding, not just entertaining drunk men and women with stories of her heroism, stories she knew would be exaggerated as soon as she left the room and someone else was telling the story to the next person.

“I am celebrating.” Arya stated, raising her bow and with a swift motion releasing the arrow, both of them looking as it hit the bullseye, again.

Arya saw Gendry from the corner of her eye and saw he seemed almost nervous, switching his weight from one leg to another.

“Yeah, I am too.” Gendry said, his voice sounding as nervous as he acted, but Arya decided to hear what he had to say before asking what was making him so fidgety. She bent to take another arrow, when after an awkward pause Gendry continued. “I’m not Gendry Waters anymore. I’m … Gendry Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End.”

That caught Arya’s attention, her eyes now fixated on the man standing next to her.

“By order of the queen.” He then continued, a soft, happy smile appearing on Arya’s face.

“Congratulations.” Arya hardly could finish the word when Gendry was already there, his hands grabbing her arms almost desperately as he pressed a feverish, yet soft kiss on her lips. After Arya got over her surprise, she kissed him back, leaning into his touch gently, but soon Gendry pulled away, Arya’s eyes opening slowly as the hasty kiss has ended a bit too soon for her liking.

“Arya. I don’t know how to be lord of anything. I hardly know how to use a fork.” Gendry rambled, Arya’s smile becoming more and more amused as he went on, her eyes jumping between his brilliantly blue eyes as he continued, Gendry’s voice now more sure, as he measured the words in his mouth before saying them out loud.

“All I know is that you’re beautiful, and I love you, and none of it will be worth anything if you’re not with me.” The damn smile on Gendry’s face just wouldn’t go anywhere, as he was offering her his heart.

Part of Arya couldn’t believe it; Gendry thought she was beautiful? Gendry had seen Arry, the dirty little boy who grew up to be a fighter of steel and blood, the Slayer of Night King; she was no fair maiden from King’s Landing or a soft-spoken girl who wore dresses and braided flowers to her hair. She was just Arya, a girl with dark hair and boyish features, yet Gendry saw something he could call beautiful in her – and oh, he loved her.

 _He_ loved _her_ , as she _loved_ him.

Arya was momentarily floored by the confession, her eyes feeling wet for a moment, as this man before her thought there was no use having lands and power without her.

“So be with me.” Gendry continued, as Arya couldn’t find her voice to answer him. As Gendry said that, he knelt in front of her, looking up at her like she was the most wonderful, beautiful thing he had ever seen.

 

* * *

 

 

“Be my wife. Be the Lady of Storm’s End.” The question made Arya’s chest ache with anxious longing, as she looked down at Gendry. His eyes filled with hope and happiness enchanted her, yet she found herself kneeling too, to get on his level as an equal. She pressed a soft, gentle kiss on his lips. She had her hands placed on his neck as she wanted him to stay still, stay in this moment forever, their eyes closed and the whole world around them gone quiet, as in that moment there were just the two of them - no war, no dragons, just two young fighters who had made it so, so far. Arya guided him to stand up with a slight movement of her hands, without breaking the kiss as they stood up in unison, moving as one.

Gendry pulled away slightly to breathe, but soon continued to press soft kisses on her chapped lips, in a way that made Arya’s heart thrum up in her throat.

It took a while before Arya could even open her eyes, as she didn’t want the kiss to end, not ever - that would mean she had to reject him. When she finally found her voice, her eyes were filled with regret and apologizes, as she knew he wouldn't like her answer after pouring his heart out to her. 

 

"We can't." Arya's words were a slap to Gendry's face, and Arya's heart broke as she saw the loving smile fade away in confusion and heartbreak, that melted into saddness. 

"Not yet, I mean. " Arya continued, her hands staying on Gendry's neck so he couldn't look away, the loss in his eyes so apparent Arya felt like she was going to cry any second now. "There is a war outside this room. I can't bear the thought of losing you - or the thought of you losing me." Arya explained, swallowing as Gendry looked like a lost pup that had been kicked. 

"I will marry you, once we've survived. I will be your lady, we will do it all - but only once we know we will be there after Cersei is not sitting on the Iron Throne." 

Gendry seemed to understand slowly, the happiness and warmth returning to his blue eyes, as he bent down to kiss Arya's lips.

"You'll marry me?" he whispered against Arya's skin, his hands on her hips pulling her in closer, as if to show he would never let go.

"I will. Once you promise me you'll survive, as I promise to you." Arya murmured, pressing soft butterfly kisses on his cheeks, smiling against his warm skin. "And once we know our family won't be separated ever again, I will marry you." 


	3. The one where Arya said no and yes

Arya breathed in deeply, then out through her mouth. The crowd outside was getting louder now that everyone was leaving the feast – the one she should have participated in.

Arya heard footsteps coming in from the entrance, and for a moment she wondered, if she should shoot – then she saw the silhouette of Gendry’s clean-shaven face. Arya felt a tiny grin rising on her lips as she released the arrow, it hitting the bullseye just as the bull-headed boy was about to cross her target.

Arya saw Gendry suck in a breath, surprised, but soon his blue eyes found her, arms raised in alarm. Arya lowered here bow, smile faded away from her lips again as she took a step back.

“Don’t shoot.” His voice was low, not quite as alarmed as she would have assumed – in fact, there was a ghost of a smile playing on his lips that soon seemed to be on her own lips as well as Gendry walked towards her with relaxation, in ease she hadn’t seen him in for days. Arya lifted her bow as soon as Gendry wasn’t in between her and her target, listening to his voice that seemed to soften, just a little bit, though that might’ve the ale talking.

“It’s night time, it’s freezing, and everyone’s celebrating. You should be celebrating with them.”

Arya stared at her bow, trying to put together an explanation for Gendry; she wasn’t in the mood for a feast nor a celebration, didn’t feel like being the centre of attention. She wasn’t her sister, after all.

And truth be told, she was celebrating, she truly was. Hitting her target again and again was a celebration for her, for she could actually see herself succeeding, not just entertaining drunk men and women with stories of her heroism, stories she knew would be exaggerated as soon as she left the room and someone else was telling the story to the next person.

“I am celebrating.” Arya stated, raising her bow and with a swift motion releasing the arrow, both of them looking as it hit the bullseye, again.

Arya saw Gendry from the corner of her eye and saw he seemed almost nervous, switching his weight from one leg to another.

“Yeah, I am too.” Gendry said, his voice sounding as nervous as he acted, but Arya decided to hear what he had to say before asking what was making him so fidgety. She bent to take another arrow, when after an awkward pause Gendry continued. “I’m not Gendry Waters anymore. I’m … Gendry Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End.”

That caught Arya’s attention, her eyes now fixated on the man standing next to her.

“By order of the queen.” He then continued, a soft, happy smile appearing on Arya’s face.

“Congratulations.” Arya hardly could finish the word when Gendry was already there, his hands grabbing her arms almost desperately as he pressed a feverish, yet soft kiss on her lips. After Arya got over her surprise, she kissed him back, leaning into his touch gently, but soon Gendry pulled away, Arya’s eyes opening slowly as the hasty kiss has ended a bit too soon for her liking.

“Arya. I don’t know how to be lord of anything. I hardly know how to use a fork.” Gendry rambled, Arya’s smile becoming more and more amused as he went on, her eyes jumping between his brilliantly blue eyes as he continued, Gendry’s voice now more sure, as he measured the words in his mouth before saying them out loud.

“All I know is that you’re beautiful, and I love you, and none of it will be worth anything if you’re not with me.” The damn smile on Gendry’s face just wouldn’t go anywhere, as he was offering her his heart.

Part of Arya couldn’t believe it; Gendry thought she was beautiful? Gendry had seen Arry, the dirty little boy who grew up to be a fighter of steel and blood, the Slayer of Night King; she was no fair maiden from King’s Landing or a soft-spoken girl who wore dresses and braided flowers to her hair. She was just Arya, a girl with dark hair and boyish features, yet Gendry saw something he could call beautiful in her – and oh, he loved her.

 _He_  loved  _her_ , as she  _loved_  him.

Arya was momentarily floored by the confession, her eyes feeling wet for a moment, as this man before her thought there was no use having lands and power without her.

“So be with me.” Gendry continued, as Arya couldn’t find her voice to answer him. As Gendry said that, he knelt in front of her, looking up at her like she was the most wonderful, beautiful thing he had ever seen.

 

* * *

 

“Be my wife. Be the Lady of Storm’s End.” The question made Arya’s blood run cold, as she looked down at Gendry, panicked look in her eyes. His eyes filled with hope and happiness, which broke her heart as she thought about her answer. Yet she found herself kneeling, to get on his level as an equal. She pressed a soft, gentle kiss on his lips. She had her hands placed on his neck as she wanted him to stay still, stay in this moment forever, their eyes closed and the whole world around them gone quiet, as in that moment there were just the two of them - trying to treasure their last moment, before she would break his heart for good. Arya guided him to stand up with a slight movement of her hands, without breaking the kiss as they stood up in unison, moving as one.

Gendry pulled away slightly to breathe, but soon continued to press soft kisses on her chapped lips, in a way that made Arya’s heart thrum up in her throat.

It took a while before Arya could even open her eyes, as she didn’t want the kiss to end, not ever - that would mean she had to reject him, had to face the reality that he did not know her at all for he thought of her as a lady. When she finally found her voice, her eyes were filled with sadness and disappointment, as she knew he wouldn't like her answer after pouring his heart out to her, proposing to her after just one night spent together after years of friendship that had evolved into flirtation and love. 

 "You'll be a wonderful lord." she couldn't quite find her voice, as she tried to find the gentlest words to reject his proposal, but as soon as she saw Gendry's face fall, she knew there was no way to do this in a way that didn't break him. "And any _lady_ would be lucky to have you. But I'm not a lady. I never have been. That's not me." as Arya went on, she felt a twinge of something reminding her of anger in her chest, the venom lingering in her words; she had never been a lady, not like her mother or Sansa.

Not like the girls Gendry should fancy, the ones with pretty gowns and soft hands. Her soft-hearted bull made lord needed someone like that, someone to stand beside him when high lords came to visit, not a girl with black eye and a Needle. 

And he should have known that - even if him calling her his lady became something of a joke, gentle tease and a reminder of the time there was just the blacksmith bastard and a hot-headed little girl. He still should have known, Arya would never be a lady, not of Winterfell or of Storm's End. 

Gendry was staring at her, pulling away as Arya walked past him. 

Then Arya felt a strong hand around her arm, as Gendry tried to stop her.

"I thought that's what... Is this really over? I am still not worthy of you, your family?"

Arya looked back at him, sharply, as Gendry's voice seemed shaky, unsure of what to say. Arya turned, slowly to face him, keeping the look on her face cold, distant - she didn't want to deal with all this. 

"You should've known I was no lady." 

"How else am I supposed to give you? A bastard boy is nothing to a highborn ... Girl." Gendry choked on his words. Arya felt her gut wrens, but then she raised her arms to touch his face, keep his eyes on her.

"I don't want no names, no lands. I am no lady, it doesn't interest me what your name is. I am happy for you, I truly am, but I can't be your lady, even if I wanted to be with you." Arya tried to soothe him, her eyes now trying to let her sadness seep to her eyes, but she tried to keep them steel and ice. 

"There is nobody else I want." Gendry choked, then realization hitting him as he tried to find the right words. "I'll give up the lands, I won't be a lord, if that's what you ask me to, you don't need to be a lady. Just ... Stay with me, please." Gendry offered, his voice thick with emotions. 

"You can't do that. All you ever wanted was to not be the bastard boy." Arya argued against his stubborn logic, shaking her head softly. 

"I can, and I will. All I ever wanted was a family. You told me once, do you remember? That you'd be my family, and that alone... It made me happier than I ever could have been. I didn't want the name for my own pride, I wanted the Baratheon name so I could be worthy of you." Those words made Arya fall silent. She was trying to read the emotions on his face, tried to find out if he was lying; her heart swelled as she saw he was true to his words. 

"I would rather marry Gendry Waters than Gendry Baratheon."

"Then do so." Gendry answered as soon as the words left her mouth, now Gendry bending down and kissing him, long and hard as if he was trying to convince her over and over again of how deep his love for her was. "Marry me. Marry me, a bastard with nothing to his name, if that's what you'll have." he begged against her skin, desperation in his voice, yet Arya didn't feel like she should take pity on him, all she heard was those words ringing in her ears.

Gendry really was committed to give away the name he had just been given to him - all he wanted was Arya. He had said he thought the Baratheon name would make him worthy, as if he wasn't worthy of her love before, but a part of Arya was starting to understand; growing up in Flea Bottom as a bastard with no mother, how could he think he would marry a lady of Winterfell, it just wasn't something that happened. Ladies married lords, bastards sired new bastards or maybe married a lowborn commoner girl. 

"I do not ask of you to be my lady, I---" Arya silenced him with a kiss, knocking him back. Soon, his balance was off and he pulled her accidentally with her to the floor, their teeth knocking together during the kiss before they pulled away. When Arya opened her eyes, Gendry's were already on her and the only clear feeling she could find in his eyes was how scared he was of getting rejected again. 

"I won't marry a lord of Storm's End. I'll marry my best friend and family, Gendry Waters, if that is what you want." Arya whispered, looking at him in the dim light, his hand resting on her side, as he seemed still confused. 

"You will?"

"After we've survived the last war, I'll marry you. We don't need a big celebration, just each other. We don't need castles or lands, for neither of us is meant to stay in one place forever. You really are stupid, if you can't see that." Arya tried to joke, but was cut off by him putting his hands on her cheeks, pulling her closer to kiss her again, and again, and again, with fever and passion and years worth of longing. 

She would marry him, Gendry Waters, the bastard blacksmith when the spring came and they had both made it out alive and could finally, finally be a family they had promised to be to each other when neither had anyone else. But first, they had to live. 

 


	4. The one where Gendry didn't ask for a lady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am literally so sorry I keep adding these alternative scenarios, but the thought of "what if D&D wouldn't have written Gendry to be a headass" popped into my head thanks to a comment one in one of the earlier chapters.
> 
> Overall, thank you so much for all the comments, I truly appreciate them and I'm happy people like my way of fixing the canon the writers left us with.  
> Also if anyone knows who do I have to bribe to get HBO to produce an Gendrya Adventures series with an happy ending, let me know.

Arya breathed in deeply, then out through her mouth. The crowd outside was getting louder now that everyone was leaving the feast – the one she should have participated in. 

Arya heard footsteps coming in from the entrance, and for a moment she wondered, if she should shoot – then she saw the silhouette of Gendry’s clean-shaven face. Arya felt a tiny grin rising on her lips as she released the arrow, it hitting the bullseye just as the bull-headed boy was about to cross her target.

Arya saw Gendry suck in a breath, surprised, but soon his blue eyes found her, arms raised in alarm. Arya lowered here bow, smile faded away from her lips again as she took a step back.

“Don’t shoot.” His voice was low, not quite as alarmed as she would have assumed – in fact, there was a ghost of a smile playing on his lips that soon seemed to be on her own lips as well as Gendry walked towards her with relaxation, in ease she hadn’t seen him in for days. Arya lifted her bow as soon as Gendry wasn’t in between her and her target, listening to his voice that seemed to soften, just a little bit, though that might’ve the ale talking.

“It’s night time, it’s freezing, and everyone’s celebrating. You should be celebrating with them.”

Arya stared at her bow, trying to put together an explanation for Gendry; she wasn’t in the mood for a feast nor a celebration, didn’t feel like being the centre of attention. She wasn’t her sister, after all.

And truth be told, she was celebrating, she truly was. Hitting her target again and again was a celebration for her, for she could actually see herself succeeding, not just entertaining drunk men and women with stories of her heroism, stories she knew would be exaggerated as soon as she left the room and someone else was telling the story to the next person.

“I am celebrating.” Arya stated, raising her bow and with a swift motion releasing the arrow, both of them looking as it hit the bullseye, again.

Arya saw Gendry from the corner of her eye and saw he seemed almost nervous, switching his weight from one leg to another.

“Yeah, I am too.” Gendry said, his voice sounding as nervous as he acted, but Arya decided to hear what he had to say before asking what was making him so fidgety. She bent to take another arrow, when after an awkward pause Gendry continued. “I’m not Gendry Waters anymore. I’m … Gendry Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End.”

That caught Arya’s attention, her eyes now fixated on the man standing next to her.

“By order of the queen.” He then continued, a soft, happy smile appearing on Arya’s face.

 

* * *

 

“Congratulations.” Arya hardly could finish the word before Gendry continued.

“I’m not going to keep the title. Or the name.” Gendry confessed, clearly nervously biting his lip, looking for Arya’s reaction to his decision.

Arya’s dark eyebrows did indeed rise, as she waited for him to continue, but as he remained silent, Arya put down her bow.

“Why? Isn’t that a great honour, becoming a lord? Not every Flea Bottom boy can say that.” Arya asked, confused eyes jumping on Gendry’s nervous features.  

“Arya. I don’t know how to be lord of anything. I hardly know how to use a fork.” Gendry explained, his voice calm and collected, even though there was a hint of a joke in it. Arya’s smile becoming more and more amused as he went on, her eyes jumping between his brilliantly blue eyes as he continued.

“You can learn those things. Isn’t Baratheon name all you wanted? Being recognized as something else than a bastard.” Arya asked, trying to catch on to what was going on inside Gendry’s thick skull.

“Aye, I wanted it as a kid, maybe even when I was told of my father. But I’ve had enough goldcloaks  and crazy leech-priestesses chasing after me because of that name.” Gendry explained; it did make sense, so Arya nodded quietly. Then Gendry drew in a deep breath, something that looked like a blush appearing on his cheeks and ears. “And … I know I am no lord. And I don’t know if I was just a last-night-alive-lay or a hasty decision. And I don’t know, if you’d ever have me, lowborn or a lord.”

There was a short silence, as Arya was trying to process the words that just came out of his mouth, her lips parting as she wanted to tell him he wasn’t just a desperate decision to get rid of her maidenhood before their imminent death, but Gendry spoke first.

“All I know is that you’re beautiful, and I love you, and none of all this will be worth anything if you’re not with me.” Gendry finally confessed, his eyes careful, ready to be hurt as Arya couldn’t find her voice.

Part of Arya couldn’t believe it; Gendry thought she was beautiful? Gendry had seen Arry, the dirty little boy who grew up to be a fighter of steel and blood, the Slayer of Night King; she was no fair maiden from King’s Landing or a soft-spoken girl who wore dresses and braided flowers to her hair. She was just Arya, a girl with dark hair and boyish features, yet Gendry saw something he could call beautiful in her – and oh, he loved her.

_He_ loved _her,_ as she _loved_ him.

“So be with me.” Gendry continued, as Arya couldn’t find her voice to answer him. As Gendry said that, he knelt in front of her, looking up at her like she was the most wonderful, beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“Stay with me. Be my family.” The request made Arya’s chest ache with warmth and longing, as she looked down at Gendry. He remembered, all those years ago when she said she’d be his family. He still wanted that, still wanted to replace the family he never had with her, even if she was so, so different from the time she swore to be his family. His blue eyes were filled with shy hopefulness, and that alone enchanted her, and she found herself kneeling too, to get on his level to press a soft, gentle kiss on his lips. She had her hands placed on his neck as she wanted him to stay still, stay in this moment forever, their eyes closed and the whole world around them gone quiet, as in that moment there were just the two of them. Arya guided him to stand up with a slight movement of her hands, without breaking the kiss as they stood up in unison, moving as one.

Gendry pulled away slightly to breathe, but soon continued to press soft kisses on her chapped lips, in a way that made Arya’s heart thrum up in her throat.

It took a while before Arya could even open her eyes, as she didn’t want the kiss to end, not ever.

Family, family, family. The word was the only thing she could hear, his hands on her and lips on hers was the only thing she could feel.

When she finally found her voice, with grey eyes filled with love and gentle warmth, she answered.

“I love you.” Her voice was soft, as she stood on her tiptoes, pressing a gentle, short kiss on his lips, her hand resting on the back of her neck as he pulled her closer by her waist. “There is nobody else I’d rather call my family.”

And Arya knew her words were true, as they surfaced from deep beneath all logic that usually guided her. Gendry knew her, accepted her with all her flaws and didn’t want to shape her to be something she was not; he really knew her and still wanted to be her family. Arya felt a smile tug her lips, as she pressed her forehead against the side of his neck, breathing in his scent, feeling fully content and for the first time in years, purely happy.

 

* * *

 

**You want them to get married anyway? Keep reading.**

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Marry me.” Gendry finally said, after a long silence of them just listening to each other’s breathing, swallowed by their own thoughts.

“What?” Arya could only muster, looking up to him. Gendry seemed surprised himself, as the blush on his face grew redder, but then he repeated his words, his voice not louder than a whisper.

“Marry me, Arya. I know we don’t need it, and a Waters shouldn’t marry a Stark, but please. Marry me.” Arya’s smile grew wider as he talked, her eyes never leaving the blue ones.

“ _I will._ ” Arya breathed, almost laughing as Gendry was clearly caught off guard, but then he smiled so wide Arya was sure she had never seen him looking like that.

“… Wait, wait. You will? You’ll marry me?” he asked, again and again, as he pressed a kiss, two, three on her face, his hands traveling up to her cheeks, keeping her close. Arya laughed against his lips, smile stretching her cheeks almost painfully. She wanted the whole world to know he had chosen her, that he was Arya’s family, the one she had ran into in the strangest of times, the one she had fallen for in the darkest of hours.


End file.
